Trust-worthy Love
by ObsidianFirefly
Summary: When things get complicated for Hermione, who will be the one to comfort her? Can enemies really be friends? Even romantically involved? And can Hermione finally worthy of her trust and love? Please R&R. Enjoy.


**Hermione's POV**

I felt numb. My face was raw and cracked from the remnants of long dried tears. At one point this evening I would have been mortified at the very thought of anyone walking in on my pity induced bawling session. But now a calming sort of apathy had overtaken me. I lay there on my four-poster, queen sized bed, wondering if Draco had even deigned to return to the shared Prefects dorm. At the beginning of the term, Headmaster Dumbledore had summoned Draco and I to his office. And with, what I now recall, in my haze of shame and torment, as a rather sadistic smile, announced how we, would be Head Girl, and Head Boy respectively. This, of course, entailed sharing a dorm. Perfect. Little had Dumbledore realized that he had simultaneously ruined my self-esteem and, apparently, my social life. A new set of sobs violently wracked my frame at the remembrance of how my life could have possibly gone downhill this fast in such a short time. It had all started a week ago when after a few less than subtle scathing looks from Ron and Harry I had finally coaxed out the reason for their dissention. They were, how did they put it? "_Concerned" _that my "_ego"_ might be "_growing"_. Try as I might to dissuade them from this notion, I had even purposefully scored an _acceptable_ on an exam, in _ancient runes_ no less_._ But nothing would sway their verdict. Today was the worst though. In the great hall they had ignored me, even going so far as to make absolutely certain that there was nowhere for me to sit even remotely close to them.

"_What's wrong Granger?" _Ron had sneered "_Now you've got what you want, all the popularity, all the friends. Everything's perfect. And there's no one to hold you back. Hope you enjoy it." _

Of course he couldn't be more wrong. Soon after my fated appointment as Head Girl, my once called friends wasted no time in spreading vicious rumours and salacious gossip at my expense. Now I was hardly even spared a glance and I sagged through the corridors.

After a while I managed to steady my cries and sobs in favour of fulfilling my obligations and going on patrol regardless of how twisted and sick I felt. I took one last moment to reflect on how abysmal my life seemed from my completely biased point of view. I groaned self-pityingly, rolling off my bed and slouching into the sumptuous bathroom that would dwarf my whole top floor back home. One of the few perks of being Head Girl was the in-your-face luxury of the dorm. Large, ornate, furniture dominated the room in shades of plum and navy blue. A large picture window spanned across the far wall that I had levitated my bed against. A birch desk stood perched near the large, rounded door. Everything was in place. Neat. Tidy. Clean. I was seriously regretting my life choices.

I stared at my dishevelled reflection in the mirror, assessing the damage. My frizzy auburn hair hung in stubborn tendrils in my eyes and down my back. I looked plain and upset; my eyes were rimmed red, and puffy from crying, my uniform wrinkled and unkempt and I had an air of all around defeat. The funny part was that, right now, I really couldn't care less. I had decided that tonight I would make one last attempt at changing my friend's minds. If they rejected me, I would simply have to reconcile myself to stooping so low as to beg Dumbledore to revoke my title and appoint someone else.

I found Draco meandering the halls on the eighth floor. He shot me a crooked grin when he saw me, I tried to contort my face into some semblance of a smile, but it came out looking more like a piteous little grimace. His brows furrowed at the sight.

Neither of us said anything, we just did our rounds silently. There had once been a day when the mere thought of even a civilized conversation with Draco would be unfeasible. However, being Head Girl and Boy had forced us to put aside the anger and rancour. Surprisingly, we had become something close to friends jesting and conversing when we spent time together completing our duties. But deep down I knew that I ached for something more than friendship. I just wasn't sure what yet…

"Will you _stop staring_ at me?!'' I finally exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air exasperatedly.

"What's wrong with you?" He queried bemusedly.

"What do you mean?" I sighed.

"Your eyes are red, and your hair's all… messy. I mean, more than normal." He reached over and tugged gently on a strand of my hair. I batted his hand away and punched his arm playfully, finally flashing a small smile, when Draco saw this he beamed and bumped me with his hip. But he quickly grew sombre again. He gently took hold of my upper arms and looked down into my caramel eyes, moving closer in front of me. His dusty blonde hair flopped in front of his fathomless eyes. My heart skipped a beat.

"But really, you can tell me." We had stopped walking; we were idling outside of the Prefects' bathroom. I stared deeply into his beautiful ice blue eyes, but they seemed gentle and genuinely concerned. My heart stopped.

"Are you hurt? Has anyone done anything to you?" His words held traces of tension, and almost, anger. I hesitated.

"- No. But there _is_ something I need to do… I'll meet you back here on the hour?" He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'damn him, bastard'.

"What'd you say?" I asked sharply.

"Nothing,' he threw a sideways smile at me 'I was just speculating where you might be going." I snorted rather unceremoniously.

"Weeeelllll Mr. Nosy, that's for _me_ to know and _you_ to bask in this mysterious cliché." I winked at him teasingly and jutted out my hip dramatically. He chuckled throatily.

"Just don't be long, there's something I need to tell you." And with that he walked away, humming, hands in his pocket. I watched him go, appreciating the muscular, yet still inexplicably graceful frame.

"That boy will be the death of me." I took a steadying breath and head for of the Gryffindor common rooms.

**Draco's POV **

Something was up. And I had absolutely no intention of leaving her alone. Something had upset Hermione tonight. And I had a feeling that is was those twats Ron and Harry. A pang of rage twisted its way up my spine and I punched the wall. Unnecessary perhaps, but what those entitled little boys thought they could get away with drove me over the edge.

She was tearing herself apart from the inside out and all they could do is mock and insult her. Publicly no less. The last few weeks had been a litany of hollow eyes and fake smiles on her behalf. All this cruelty was breaking her, especially coming from those she thought she could trust.

My heart pounded in my ears and I struggled to maintain my composure. She was far too

good for them, too good for me for that matter. I was deluding myself if I thought I deserved someone as beautiful as her. I just couldn't help it. I was losing myself in her. Her smile. Her laugh. Earlier, when I put my hands on her arms, I swear she could hear my heart pounding against my ribs, desperately trying to lend itself over to her entirely.

The moon shone through the high windows and slid across her porcelain skin as she hesitated outside the dorm. Her large eyes conveyed her silent battle and her fingers continuously twined and untwined, tiny soldiers amidst an internal turmoil. I smiled. She always wore her emotions on her sleeve. I just hated seeing her like this; vulnerable and exposed. My heart begged me to take her into my arms and kiss her hair, tell her everything would be ok. I abhorred any and everything that made her cry. Though I suppose I was a glutton for punishment, because here I was, watching her go from fear to uneasiness to uncertainty and back again.

God she made me crazy. Just her name sent my head reeling. But I was too much of a coward to tell her. Finally, it appeared that she had made her choice. The wrong choice. She murmured the password and stepped through the door. There was no stopping her now. Once she had made up her mind, there was no reasoning with her. I sunk to the floor and messily ran my hand through my hair.

"That girl will be the death of me."


End file.
